Monday, December 26, 2011

good life

i woke up this morning to the quiet sound of falling rain. i love rainy days, but while on vacation in paradise, rain is a mixed blessing. today it would be a good thing, because my skin is crispy, painful, red and itchy from too much sun. rather than giving up on the beach, i decided to ride over to have breakfast. kopi bali and jaffle pisang was the thought, but just spending the time on the sand was what i was hungry for.

the day has been slipping by, and it's lunch time now. i just finished a wonderfully simple burger. it was served dutch style with mayonnaise, to which I added soya. empire meets local; or east meets west on the crossroads of trade. enjoying is all about finding the fusion. after this long in asia, i have given up on the idea that american burgers are the best way to eat. it's impossible to find them consistently, and using the local ingredients just make it taste better. i did skip the sambal sauce, there needs to be limits in life.

while sitting on the beach this morning, the third squall of the day passed. most of the other early beach-goers had abandoned hope during the second squall. it had lasted more than an hour, and prolonged tropical storms while sitting on the beach are just too much for most people. i waited it out because i had a feeling it was going to clear. at the first short break, i hopefully moved down to the chairs. minutes later the third gentle squall came through with another extended rain that brought visibility below VFR. i sat under an umbrella not made to protect anything from more than sun, and listened to the rain and surf. water dripped down my back, as i laid comfortably within the white noise cocoon.

as i walked back towards the cafe, i was coaxed into a visit to the beach-side massage hut. i amused myself by playing with a local kid whose mother was telling him to take a nap, while getting massaged by the aunties. it's hard to remember that they are my age. after 20+ years on the beach they look as though they have a generations head start on me. the beach community is a village of families who watch each other, we are just visitors to their lives.

it's when i experience others lives up close that i think about how blessed i am. i get to travel, but have people i love to keep in touch with while on the road. i never feel as though i am alone. my major fear 7 years ago. but while learning to enjoy being solitary, i also learned that out of sight does not need to be out of mind. distance does not need to limit connection; if you work on it. technology helps; sms, email, youtube and voice have all been used in the past few days to allow holidays around the world to be shared.

these are good days. the sun is out and the rain is losing its 60% chance of impacting beach time. i am drinking storm and i can feel the energy levels rising. it reminds me that i have been playing doom with a red light flashing; warning me to take cover. the trip feels like i have slipped into a quiet room, steel door protecting me from attacks, and i have found an energy pack to bring me back to health. just in time, because one more blast and i could have lost this level.

when ash was here this summer she told me that I was living large. she meant that expat housing, jockey parking, friends who own restaurants and the ability to slip away to the beach should be appreciated. sometimes i forget that, and i should apologize for my semi-occasional tantrums. i am not one of these 9 year olds, working on a beach selling bracelets and hoping for good luck to make a sale today. but sometimes, i do feel like the distracted kid being told to take a nap.

i get to have connected travel. i get to relax with my storm. i get to talk to the aunties, or strike up random conversations with nice strangers. i can go back to my hotel and take a hot shower, send my wet clothes to laundry, order a car for tomorrow's angel, and think about what i want for dinner. if i add in apple store purchases, and coming christmas presents, i know my bug is right. i am living large.

all I needed was a few days under a wet umbrella to realize:

this is the good life.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

wishing you

i am at dinner in a local restaurant with a sign board that promises mexican food. it also has indonesian, italian, chinese and seafood listed, so i am not sure what to expect. the staff appears to speak english and russian equally well, not sure if this is a hint that mexican should not be the feast of choice, but then again, that is what this whole trip is all about, exploring.

i spent the day at the beach. hiding under the umbrella, reconsidering the need to add sunblock to my packing list for the beach. i wrapped myself in a sarong-tudong and wondered how I had gotten so far without SPF enhancement. the days of sunblock magically appearing are gone, time to take responsibility for my own skin.

as the day wound down a large crack of thunder in the distance got me headed back. already late, i took a few intentionally misguided turns and ended up in a small back-road village. the sales-kids on the beach had told me about a barong tonight. there was an old gentlemen in a crisp white outfit I have seen at temple festivals. i slowed and asked him if the barong was here. he shook his head no, and pointed around the corner.

there was a crowd of men loitering next to the temple. one was holding a rooster dripping blood from its legs. money was being passed back and forth between the men; somehow i had found the islands christmas night cockfight. i guessed this was a different form of cultural event, just not one in the guide books. given the theme of the week, i parked my motorcycle and tried to merge into the crowd.

that merge was not simple, my presence was clearly unexpected. it caused more than several looks, and a few whispered comments. this is where common sense kicks in for most. in a village that the 5-star hotel crowd never sees, my peers would neither get here nor intentionally stay. i tapped into my inner gonzo journalist and started talking to locals in a rough english-indonesian mix and did the polite thing by placing a bet.

the next contestants were both scrappy looking. liking it dark, i bet on the black cock with psychedelic green coloring on his sides. as they brought the birds together to snap at each other, i noticed the size of the white cocks claws, and knew i had made my first cock-fight mistake. there is some saying about big feet and winning cocks, but the action was ready to start and i needed to focus. i decided to let the contest play out; my bet more of like an entrance fee than a wager.

the "fight" lasted about three minutes. the white bird kicked my colored bird's ass. my guy left with a chunk of his neck missing, but alive and able to lose another day. i had visions of being deep in mexico while watching the combatants, they seemed more beach-asian, with a laid back surfer approach to fighting, than the gangsters they and the homies could be mistaken for. back on the road i knew there was a lesson to be learned, i still haven't figured it out. it will come to me.

it rained while i napped and showered. it was dry by the time i was ready for my christmas feast. i rode over to the place i had seen the day before and found it mostly empty; with a local guy playing christmas songs on his guitar. music to go along with my natal enchilada.

"feliz navidad" was interesting because he sang the english parts with a thick accent and the spanish memorized without accent. i was singing along so it was the second verse before I actually listened to him and heard:

i want to miss you a merry christmas. i want to miss you a merry christmas. i want to miss you a merry christmas, from the bottom of my hot.

i was sure he was doing it that way on purpose. it's the perfect end to this day. semi-yoga, cafe, beach, cockfight, motorcycle, sunburn, nasi goreng, madi-kutu in the afternoon and acceptable mexican food with bintang besar and a guitarist that mistranslates to improvement.

this is the best release ever; wish you were here.

happy holiday

i just paid USD 2.45 to drive my motorcycle onto one of my favorite beaches in the world and for an umbrella with two chairs to hide my burnt skin from the sun. i was met by smiles, "selamat pagi" and high fives as i walked to my chairs. i know the kids will swarm be again today, because i proved to be a good mark with the bracelet purchases yesterday. but i don't mind, it's part of the process of being remembered the next time i come to geger.

i woke up this morning and called family in the US. one call covered the kids, their cousins and my christmas purchase partner. I was able to send hugs to others opening presents in grandma's living room. my gift was hearing the fading sounds of christmas past. it was good to connect with a bit of holiday cheer. it's also important to remember where you came from.

i then called my mom and had a long conversation about moving forward when you just want to stop. she is missing my dad, but she got her rose today and has friends and family around her. we discussed afterlife on multiple levels, reminding me why i always loved the way she thinks; and how lucky i was for the conversations of my youth.

as I got to my umbrella I noticed clouds on the horizon. less than five minutes later it started to rain. big drops of tropical rain, shimmering against the blue sky just off the beach. the clouds look like they will pass off to the north, so i made a move to the sand-side cafe just before the rest of the beach caught on that the clouds behind them had malicious intent.

the tables around me are filled with other non-traditional christmas revelers. in front of me are the aussies with tattoo-surfer dad and happy mom who talked to me accidentally and then told me a joke about a wankers miscommunication in the men's room. to the side, a bit behind me actually, is a local transvestite who smiled at me shyly. she is with a P90X addict who seems to think no one has caught onto their ruse. the younger daughter from down under waited until they passed before asking mom if she was a he. more new friends on my favorite beach.

as i sit enjoying my morning storm, i am thinking about jk rowlings. i watched a profile on her this morning. not being particularly harry-fanatic i was not sure why i watched. the day was passing, and with it precious beach time. but the profile ended with a quote she delivered to a harvard graduating class.
the knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. you will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. such knowledge is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won...

the entire speech is titled "the fringe benefits of failure and the importance of imagination". when i read it, i found the paragraph immediately before this qoute was the real reason i was not able to leave the cafe on time this morning. some how, one of the jk out there was sending me a message. it was a message that i knew, but clearly i needed to hear:
failure gave me an inner security that i had never attained by passing examinations. failure taught me things about myself that i could have learned no other way. i discovered that i had a strong will, and more discipline than i had suspected; i also found out that i had friends whose value was truly above the price of rubies.

the sun has come out and it's time to move back onto the sand. my storm is gone, and i have ignored the water for to long. i know that i now have the skills needed to see the rain before others and to get under cover before the crowds make a move. but i also know i can make friends in the strangest of places or moments.

even the happiest holidays can be in places you don't expect.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

indonesian scrooge

what do you do when you realize for the second time in 4 months you need to break with convention and escape your responsibilities? the past few months have been difficult. i have been hanging in more or less one week at at time. but weeks ago i knew i needed to escape. i looked at flights to asia/oceania locations with the hope of mexican food and good beer. it took me three days to decide on my second choice, a process of whittling hope and fear down to action.

as an american in asia, i am constantly asked if i am going home for christmas. it's a strange question because i am not really sure where home is anymore. if home is where the heart is, my heart is spread over the world. i do not have a singular location to go where all the people i love will be sitting together as a unit of holiday joy. there are my american and european families, both of which i feel joining would be intrusion.

i have two groups who i love in KL. one is a mixed bag of non-christmas people; atheists, communists, muslims, sort-of-muslims, hindus and buddhists. there are a few christians mixed into this group, but walls limit the sharing of holidays. there is also a fully formed family group who will be celebrating praise and worship without me. this is an interesting ensemble that i enjoy being a member of; but i did what i have always done during holidays, pushed myself away from the table.

my parents allowed this to become a tradition of mine. i am not really sure why i am this way, but i am. when the holidays loom, i feel the need to back away. i love the christmas spirit, the trappings of the holiday, the food and buying presents for kids, but i feel very uncomfortable in the family setting. thinking about it, it's not being together that bothers me but the thought that i might not get to be with the family at the next holiday. echoes of divorce bounce in my head as i am visited by the ghost of holidays past. i love the memories, i cherish them, but i will never be invited to join in again.

if the ghosts of christmas past are haunting me, the ghost of christmas present has been a warm and loving soul. she and i discussed my separation, and agreed that i needed to get away. there is mass missed, dinner and singing to follow. there will be no tree to wake up to, there will be no stockings to stuff. my ghost of christmas present is allowing me to get away, to sit in a cafe serving bad coffee and pseudo-parisian pastries, to listen to spa-christmas fusion muzak and to write alone. having gained enlightenment about being holiday-solo, i am not upset by christmas present. but then ebenezer wasn't either until he realized family missed him; or was it their pity.

this leaves me with the ghost of christmas future. with birth parents gone, siblings 25 years separated and acquired family lost in agreement, i can not honestly imagine a future christmas like any of the past. i can imagine a time-share christmas, the exact thing that i have been avoiding for 4 years. having a tiny tree at home sounds good, but being away on the beach has become a bit of a tradition now also.

i realize that i am dangerously close to bringing my ghosts with me on my impaired holiday. in some ways, this year is a dry run, a phased approach of escape followed by reconnection. i honestly wish i were able to enjoy the holidays without the angst, but as i said i know this is who i am, and i appreciate that my parents, living and dead, my ghosts and my children understand that being here is not a way to say that i don't want to be there. i want to be there more than anything in the world.

the scared kid who cried the christmas eve he found out santa was a evil hoax, the young man who closed the door thinking of a camera, the husband horribly allergic to christmas cheer and the sun burned pirate are all looking forward to many happy holidays to come.

haunted duck will be served, god bless us all, every one.

Friday, October 14, 2011

ugly malaysians


while sitting in a cafe having a drink the incessant bleat of a horn began to waft in from from the street. this is a common sound here, it means, "dude you double parked your car and i a can't get by you, i need to go and you are nowhere to be seen, i am getting frustrated so wake up and move your car before i have an aneurism". this was taking away attention from my reading of an opinion piece, "less form, more substance", about malaysia needing a clear plan to move the country forward economically. the author's point was that there is more than enough infrastructure here, but that people's mindsets needed to change.

as the bleating increased in tempo, the woman sitting next to me looked out the window absently. as she continued her conversation she craned her neck to see where the horning was centered. i followed her gaze and saw three cars double parked down the street. this is when she dug out her keys and slowly got up to move outside. had the people who had been sitting there for 40 minutes having a leisurely lunch really parked a car in a way that obstructed others from getting by, and simply ignored the sound of horn for the past 5 minutes?

the woman walked toward the horning, but when she saw that it was not her illegally parked car that was the obstruction, she turned and happily walked back to the air-conditioned cafe with its happily kiwi coffee culture. she came into the cafe and re-took her seat, prepared to pick the conversation up where she had left it. unfortunately western culture comes with the concept of social peer pressure, something that does not normally happen here -- other than the anonymous reporting of suspect morality lapes to JAIS.

i turned to her and said, "hi, do you have your car double parked"?
she replied, "yes, we do".
i said, "can i ask why"?
she took a beat and looked at me, but said, "we are just stopping quickly".

i have been sitting here since they came in and watched them linger over a drink before ordering, see friends come in and have a quick catch up conversation, order lunch, wait for it to be delivered, eat lunch while talking and then order another drink to lepak over.

"really, you have been here at least 40 minutes and your car has been blocking other people the whole time? does that seem fair to you?"
she looked at me with open shock on her face, "well, there is nowhere to park".

this is friday, there are prayers going on and the area is busy, but there is plenty of parking for anyone willing to use it. there is an expanded version of her short-form sentence for those who know that it is just malaysian for: "there is no free parking available, and the parking that is available would require me to walk more than 50 feet. it's hot out, i am lazy and the police are all at prayers. no one is going to give me a ticket so i can do what i want without anyone saying anything about it".

with the local lack of social peer pressure, she is right, people will get back to their car 10 minutes or more after someone starts horning, and will just wave as though they had been in the car the whole time and was moving it immediately; the standard response is to say something in an unshared vernacular language and drive by.

i said, "there is jockey parking, BV2, jollygreen and BV. plenty of parking, off street and not blocking anyone. do you think it could be better to park there or to block the streets so that no one can get by. malaysian's talk about how bad the traffic is, but it could be that it's not too few roads or too many cars, but that people block streets so no one can get by. do you think this needs to be fixed so the country can get better?"

this is a complete stranger, and maybe i have no reason to get involved or take it on myself to question her on why she is so self-important that courtesy should not be followed. except that i use these roads, and are constantly blocked by illegally parked cars; or people driving against traffic on jammed oneway streets to avoid doing a longer loop, but that is another rant. the whole country is in perpetual grid lock because some clearly have an inability to line up in an orderly way; or to follow simple rules. if you live here, you know it's not everyone, but the ones that do this do tend to drive expensive cars and have the time and money to sit is kiwi cafes.

this is when she really got mad at me. i can tell she was mad because she took the standard malaysian approach of thanking me. this of course is either learned behavior from political groups, or a deeper cultural reaction to any questions from someone you feel is not in a position to question you.

she said, "thank you for your comments". this was delivered dismissively but with a quiver of outrage.
rather than push the point, i replied "you're welcome" and smiled with my best smart-ass exclamation point.

i am far from a saint, i am willing and able to break a rule. the last time i was in the US, i was driving above the speed limit and passed a truck. in the corner of my eye i saw the driver wave to me, which i thought was interesting. i looked over and saw that he was telling me to put my cell phone down. he wanted me stop talking, and probably slow down, to make the roads safer for others. i waved back, smiled the same smile i had just given this woman and accelerated down the pike.

asian culture reinforces a shame based society. the people who are double parking have no shame for doing it. "i am just running in" is a common excuse, even if they are clearly sitting and having a meal. it's also friday afternoon, when attendees are allowed to turn major roads into parking lots if they are close to the mosque. this is used as an other-cultural excuse to park illegally, along with the desire to take 3 hour lunches. this falls into the childish category of i get to do it because he does. i was sitting there having lunch, i am not throwing rocks at the lepak, but my being there had nothing to do with anyone else.

western culture is the guilt based system. guilt is inwardly imposed controls based on the conditioning to follow the rules. it is a self-control, rather than "what would people think", we live in a "i can't, it's wrong" culture. but to keep the system honest, you occasionally need negative reinforcement in the guise of informal social control. this is where the guy in the truck came in, telling me to hang-up and stop relying on unconscious driving skills to keep me alive.

but this is what is lacking here. or so i thought. as i turned back to the paper, the next article i saw was another opinion piece, the rise of educated 'ugly malaysians', by s. sundareson a retiree who appears to be leading the charge on fixing malaysian bad habits. his examples are illegally parking, running red lights, littering, wasting things they are not paying for and not attending meetings they have RSVPed. his piece has run in both of the major english newspapers here, but i wonder if any of the ugly malaysians are listening.

i wanted to show the couple with the car illegally parked, who where still lingering over drinks 30 minutes later, the article. but i thought that would be piling on, and clearly a breach. besides, i had lost all desire try to get through. it wasn't the dismissive thank you that did it. it was a few minutes later when:
the woman's companion said, "don't be upset. do you understand mandarin? ta [something] hundan".
dude, i already know i am an asshole.

sometimes, you need to be if you are going to be honest with people who don't want honesty. the real ugliness here is that people won't say it to your face, they switch languages and assume they are covered by language. this is why there are vernacular schools, to teach people how to talk behind others back. but let's be clear...

you don't need to listen to me, but i know what you are saying.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

boy blue


i am ignoring the world and passing the time until mass. i have been trying to get in touch with how i feel all week. emotions have been flowing since the phone rang in the middle of the night to tell me my father had died. when i asked when the funeral was, my sister said they were waiting to know when i would be back. but i had decided two years ago that when the time came, i would not fly home. i should have warned my family, but when does that conversation come up. no one understands, and i have been asked to consider what i am doing; no one wants me to live with regrets.

my father had a heart attack and stroke two years ago. my mom has been nursing him towards recovery ever since. as i watched from far away, i could not remind her that they sent him home to die, not to recover. there was no recovery, he was bedridden, had lost most of his mobility and communication skills. earlier this year, persistant open wounds forced them amputate his legs. when i called home she would tell me how he had gotten up and moved around a bit, or that he was having a good day, but i have known the days were limited.

when i was in college, we would blow off campus during exam season and drive over to the ocean. classmates were in the library or studying in the dorms, but once i had studied i knew that what i needed was to get away from the enforced quiet time that others required. it was best for me to sit in the back seat of the car and drink a beer, listen to music and talk to my closest friends. i don't remember a single conversation, but i can still feel the closeness of the group driving through the night; far from the acceptable behavior of studying or sleeping.

at the end of my sophomore year we were driving to the beach in the middle of the night. i was thinking about the coming summer, i would go home for a few weeks and then off to parris island for my marine corp summer camp. i would not be spending the summer with my family, but i was already spending my school year away, so this seemed like the next step.

i had called home every week the first year of college; sunday at 7:30 on the dot. it was the time between sunday mass and the return to my studies. i would call home and let them know how i was doing, what was going on in my life. but early in my sophomore year i had made the call, and after talking for a few minutes a frustrated voice on the other end asked me, "why don't you call and tell us good news. it seems like there is always something wrong. can you not call until you have good news to tell us?" i got angry, and tried to debate the point, but they hung up. i stood in the phone box, staring at the receiver which i then slammed down, twice. the following week at 7:30 i wanted to call, but still angry i refused to edit my conversation. i wanted to share, but the sharing had stopped. i never called regularly again, and 27 years of drift has happened in between.

later that year, when i told my father i was joining the marine corp to fly helicopters, he asked me, "are you sure about this? you don't like anyone telling you what to do." when i think back on the tractor accident, and premature end of my military career, i realize in some ways he might have been right. i have learned to take and execute orders, but i have always needed to make my own choices.

on that drive to the beach we had ROCK 101 was playing. i was in a quiet mood and for the first time actually listened to harry chapin's "cats in the cradle". i knew the chorus, but the lyrics had always blurred by unnoticed. this time i listened to the story of a father and son's relationship over the years. it begins with the son asking for the fathers time, and ends with roles reversed. it was in this moment that i understood my childhood, but i also saw my future and realized how i was moving away.

when we got to the beach, i zipped into a sleeping bag on the sand. as i laid listening to the waves with my girlfriend i started to cry. she had no idea what had set me off, she might have thought it was exam stress, but i was sobbing over a broken childhood that i had no ability to fix. i might have gone into software because i like to build systems, or to fix those that are broken, but this one was out of my hands. my childhood may also drive my need to be in control, but in those moments i had no control. i didn't explain the emotions that night, but i have gone back to them over the years.

i cried two years ago when i thought my father was going to die, i haven't cried this week. i want to, but i can't seem to push the button. it feels wrong, i am not going to stand over the casket so why do i get to shed the tears from the safe emotional distance that i am keeping.

the words that have always haunted me are from the end of the song, when the father calls and asks to see the son who says he is too busy... i have never believed he was busy, work is not an issue, just a convenient excuse. the father ends the call and says:
as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
he'd grown up just like me
my boy was just like me

i am divorced, i live away from my kids, i do enjoy work. but i am not my father. my father would have gone to the funeral, even if he didn't want to. i am not perfect, and i never needed him to be. i am sad that he is gone, and that we never found enough time to spend together. but i loved my dad, and i know he loved me. we just never really understood each other, and that is how i want to be different, i want my kids to know the person i am inside.

this is not the end of the song, because i am the father now and my kids need me to call and make time to be there; so they can know me. i live half a world away, and have been home for e's birthday 5 years running; i wonder if he has noticed that. either way, i know i am no longer the son, i am now the father.

the song ends with:
and the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
little boy blue and the man on the moon
when you comin' home son?
i don't know when, but we'll get together then son
you know we'll have a good time then

goodbye dad, i love you.

i am sorry we didn't get together then.

Monday, September 26, 2011

fundamental laws


i am sitting in a cafe and watching two boys enjoying the confines of a playroom. their mothers are sitting outside and chatting over coffee. the blond boy continues to scream at the top of his lungs each time the possibly-asian playmate moves towards his toys. his american soccer mom continues to tell her son to shhhhhhhh and to move into the room to quiet his emotional outbursts. the semi-asian mom sits quietly in her headband and sweats as she and her son both politely ignore the noisy playmate. i am taking this in while watching "finding nemo" on the playroom dvd and reading a local paper to disguise my real focus.

the dominant story in the paper is over the proposed imposition of hudud laws in two of the more conservative states in malaysia. when this story first broke i assumed it was the majority party creating issues within the opposition as the general elections come closer. but if it started that way, the opposition has not been smart enough to side step the issue. PAS and DAP are now demanding the other side clarify it's position, and threats of leaving the opposition union are flaring.

the fact that hudud was passed by the states 10 years ago, and was shutdown as unconstitutional doesn't seem to matter. the advocates for this are fundamentally demanding that thieves have their hands cut off and that adulters be stoned to death. these are the mandatory punishments for these crimes in islamic law, but you can see how most of UNMO would be against their imposition. a week after the internationally positive press that ISA is being reformed, there is now a discussion of stoning people in public. you can sense the expat community, and many of the locals, cringe at the thought of universal sharia bedroom checks.

this story was placed next to the discussion of a church suicide-bombing in indonesia. the religious violence in the most populous muslim-dominant country continues to raise. the local paper stressed that the majority of the indonesian's are moderates. the international papers stressed that the country sliding down the slippery slope and again pointed out the 202 people killed 10 years ago in bali, and the muslims stoned to death by a crowd early this year. the leaders of that crowd were convicted based on the youtube video, they received 3 - 5 months in jail for murders committed with a policeman watching.

the members of the murderous crowd may have been directed by their leaders to protect their faith from less than orthodox beliefs. this could be similar to the statements made by pope benedict this weekend, saying the church could not accept gay marriage and urged young people root out evil in society and shun a "lukewarm" faith that damages the church. this is definitely a message to the non-orthodox majority of catholics, as well as those more fundamentally believing. you can imagine similar words being used to send the crowds out to stone less than acceptable muslims in indonesia.

there were other stories, bombings all over the world, conflict in nigeria, UN votes over palestine. the world economy is a complete mess, and people seem to find any reason they can to be at odds. all of this came into focus as i listened to the little boy wail with indignent pain because the other boy took the green truck and left him with only the red one. nemo was in the fish tank plotting an escape, but the boys were focused on the differences rather than coming to a common ground. the semi-asian mom sat serenely while the american mom fussed over the boys trying to solve the disruption.

this is when i came across the article, san francisco protesters: no nudes is bad news. it is a discussion of the nudist movement in the city by the bay, where they "generally allow public nudity". the malaysian newspaper did not have photos and was heavily edited from the original AP story. but did get the point across that people would like nudists in cafes to be polite and "put a cloth under their bottoms if they take a seat in public". the online version made it clear that is already the common practice.

this is a story which might only come out of san francisco, but it gives me hope. if i choose to focus on this story, i get to believe that the entire world is not degrading into conflict. the bay area has always been an early adopter and leader in cross-cultural acceptance; and cross-dressing. if soccer mom's taking their 7 year old to see the little mermaid could see the protest and simply say "i think you should cover up a little", then at least one part of the world can see something they disagree with and not need to kill the non-breeding nudist for the insult.

san francisco is a truly multi-cultural place. when malaysian leaders ask the people to modernize and become a high income nation they may not want to become san francisco, but they might want to consider it. to be truly successful we need stop the tension and allow the focus to be on success. debating lifestyles is not productivity, accepting that others are different is the progress this world needs.

when the taliban imposed fundamentalist islamic law in afghanistan they demanded women wear burqas and be escorted by male relatives outside the house. they completely shut down the economy, health care and education systems in kabul. san francisco on the other hand is one of the most successful cities in the world, it has cable cars, a great museum out on alcatraz and wonderful wine in foodie havens on the embarcadero. it also has naked guys walking around the street and moms who do not ask for anyone to be stoned to death, appendages cut off or even beaten with a stick.

the kids have stopped playing, the caucasian mom ended the playtime by taking her son into her lap and rocking him to sleep. the possibly-asian kid waited for this mom to get him, which she did when it was time to leave. i am here thinking about the US, but glad that i didn't need to worry if the last person who had this table was naked and refused to put down a cloth when they sat.

i am fighting an emotional outburst of my own right now, it's not over the newspaper or that someone took my toy. maybe i should just let go and scream, but i can't seem to break through. in the mean time, i suggest we allow others to live on the bell curve wherever they want, burqa to bare, halal to haram, let them be and don't get emotional. if you get upset, find a mom and ask her for a hug. watching that kid fall asleep was oddly soothing...

i wonder if there's a law against that.


Thursday, September 22, 2011

schweddy balls


people don't really understand why i miss the US. it's not all the time, i like malaysia, in fact that might be why i am still here. there is incredible room for growth here, it is just stagnated under a culturally imposed corruption and social constriction. other than the promised to be repealed, or was that replaced, ISA and EO most of the fear in this country is self imposed. what we need here is a sense of humor, and the ability to say/do stupid things. because, sadly, that is what drives the economy.

if you don't believe me, i have an example. i was sitting in a cafe, and reading NPR when i came across the example. national public radio is a news organization in the US which is funded by the US government and it's listeners. they are tasked with being high quality and free of government interference with content. that doesn't really have impact on this story, but if MY locals are reading imagine news that lacks censorship, is not biased by any government overseers and has the freedom to report as they see the truth.

for example, try these articles:
you might notice differences between those and articles that run in the NST or Star, beyond the quality of the writing.

as i read i came to an article titled: Stop 'Schweddy Balls' Effort Begins

the article is about an organization that says:

"Are you tired of all the negative influences our children are forced to contend with?"
and
"Our goal is to stop the exploitation of our children, especially by the entertainment media (TV, music, movies, etc.)"

to further these goals they have taken a stand against ben & jerry's ice cream for its limited edition product, 'schweddy balls'. beyond the fact that its a dumb name that no child under 15 could pronounce, it's not even targeted towards children. ben & jerry's is a premium ice cream and shelved well above kids view. the press release actually points out the companies last limited edition product that the less-than million moms had an issue with:
"a special edition of Chubby Hubby called Hubby Hubby last year which celebrated gay marriage"
and there we are. the mom's aren't seem pissed at the balls, they are still pissed at the company for failing to support "family values" and celebrating loving families that happen to have 4 balls, rather than the assumed mom accepted standard of two.

i might have taken a while to get to the point here, but here it is. all of this is happening without the national leadership condemning the impact to "social harmony".

a conservative religious group is looking to boycott a liberal-hippie company for a product that spun out a skit on saturday night live. SNL was making fun of NPR for being news of the liberal intelligentsia, which just happens to be the target market of the B&J's products. SNL is owned by GE, one of the largest companies in the world, NPR is largely government and private donation funded and no one is making a police report that tina fey told a baldwin brother she wanted to taste his balls on television.

the only coverage is about a product, and a fringe group that is calling for a boycott no one is going to engage in. a news outlet is then publishing that as news, which gives added coverage to itself and the product. the real result will be for people who haven't watched SNL at midnight on saturday since belushi left will now go out and buy a product they would never have noticed. exposure drives the economy, and humor helps drive that exposure. having semi-stars make fun of a radio network my daughter gets a headache from listening to is not news until someone without a sense of humor makes an issue of it for them.

what is it that i miss about the US? it could be the lack of censorship, definitely the lack of ISA and RELA, but really what i miss is a sense of humor. in the US they get to laugh at the skit, at the ice cream, at the repressed moms for the press release and at the NPR for picking up the story. i asked a few malaysians around me to try to pronounce the title, they looked shyly away and said "i don't know". come on, you need to try say it, its all about the

schweddy balls.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

small world


after breakfast today i went for a walk on the beach. the waves here crest quickly and break close to the shore. there are strong tides and the beach is marked with the red flag that warns that it is closed for swimming. as i looked down the beach there were a few people bobbing in the waves on the miles long beach, but it was otherwise nearly deserted. i thought about the european sailors who would have seen this beach for the first time from their boats. how could they have seen this and not swam ashore to stay and frolic in the waves? maybe because they had seen so many other beautiful beaches ... okay, but why would they ever go back to england?

i have used the word paradise a few times in this blog, and there really are places in the world that are as close to paradise and one could get. but if you needed to go out and find a place to live, where would it be? as i sit under palm trees and listen to the waves coming ashore, washed in warm tropical sun, i wonder why anyone would select a location that involves the harshness of my childhood winters. i remember making angels in the snow, but i also remember falling on my aching ass because i did not break the ice on the stairs when my father asked. we are not really made to live in those conditions, being iced is not a good thing.

the selection process had to be easier when the bounty sailors looked ashore to tahiti. an open culture, an established trading system for necessities, chiefs who welcomed the ferengi ashore and offered them land and status to stay. but the modern world is more difficult. travel is fast, and information travels faster. we can watch the events of a far off situation unfold from nearly anywhere in the world. the world is smaller, with more options.

as you look over the world, where would you pick to live? bali is nice, but has no economy beyond tourism; with crazy traffic on anything including a motorcycle. amsterdam is nice, love bicycles, but needing to speak anymore dutch than i do would hurt. goa sounds nice, european influence and a desire to not be called indian, but i would spend all my time searching for the bridge that marie died on.

i don't have an issue working on my spanish, but don't really want to learn portuguese, i have had my fill of fringe languages. finding somewhere with english as a common language would be great in fact.

i prefer it socially relaxed, there has to be no issue with alcohol and pork; in fact a strong beer culture with tasty IPAs would be great. a cosmopolitan environment, that looks beyond color and orientation is a must in fact. it must have a newport-quality arts culture, so i can walk into galleries to poke around between the beach and coffee in a cafe. the closest i can come up with is bondi beach. the beach is nice, i would love to join that lifeguard club on the west point (the first official live saving club in the world), book, record and surf shops and great food all around; relaxed people playing between the flags.

there is also something i like about living in a place that was established as a penal colony, and that was a favorite destination for troubled irish to be deported by our engles overseers. the downside is cost of living, it feels like the overseas alternative to moving to venice beach. but venice has native burrito shops and quality medical care easily available, while NSW is still sadly behind the times in modern beach side comforts.

i was thinking about a house somewhere in baha california. buy a piece of beach, put up a doublewide and have a boat to take tourists out during the season. i have never been a fisherman, but i used to row so the other guys could catch off the "ship of fools", this would be the late-adult version of that. good weather, spanish and english, slow paced. it all sounds good, but how do i get back here and see the andaman sea again? how do i get back to bali and visit my ubud auntie friend who sells me batiks. she smiles as soon as i walk up, and gives me a hug. can i decide to leave that behind?

it's too early to come up with a retirement plan. i should just go back to the villa and read my book on born liars. the book talks about how lying helped drive the explosive evolution of humans over our cousin primates. it argues that we needed to learn to lie to compete in ever larger social groups. humans are known to have evolved to live in groups of 150, and later into villages of 1,500, this is significantly larger than the other higher apes groupings. lying helped us do it, driving our need for larger brains and the ability to project ahead.

but our world is much larger now. we have so many options, to travel, to meet and know others, to experience cultures. i am watching the sun drop towards the horizon, and i am so glad i am here. this trip was taken because i missed the US and needed a break, but if i said i was ready for a change and knew how to make it with a perfect choice... i would be lying.

if asked right now, i would think of cousin avi and say, "yeah, don't go to england"

slow train

i am so relaxed. i am away, and i have absolutely nothing to complain about. i am laying on a rounded couch, under a roof. there is music playing, i can hear the waves from the andaman sea coming ashore. the day is slow and easy. i am at sala resort phuket, quietly tucked onto the near deserted beach; and far-far removed from the patong craziness further down the island.

the draw of this resort is three fold, pool suites with a literal wall of privacy, beautifully quiet surroundings and an american chef who serves begniets and sublime american pancakes for breakfast. add to this quesadillas lacking the metallic anti-taste of malaysian beef, or the heaven sent chorizo version which was not on the menu but was easily made on request, and you will understand that this is a get away that helps me go home. it has none of the KL tightness, the price is what you would pay in the west for a comprable resort -- and the staff and service reflects it.

three weeks ago was the "malaya day" holiday, it happens to fall dangerously close to my birthday, and the desire to balik antarabangsa felt like the sweaty cravings of an addict. but i had just come back for a tranquil family retreat in bali and thought another trip would be indulgent. i chose to follow the lead of saint augustine and deny the urge for pleasure. i remain within the counter-pleasure city, reminded of the the settlers who stayed next to the muddy river. KL once again taught me that it's lack of quality and style are not a mistake, it's cultural and by design. it must be, why else would it be so sadly consistent.

my birthday gift, a compromise, like giving methadone to dull the craving, was to check into sunway villas, which promised villa suites with pools and private walls, there is the KL version of a beach near by and there was the promise of "american" pancakes to wake up to. along with this was the addition of a steak dinner at the cities highest rated beef kitchen. i loved the presents, because they were given with love, but they were also like a toy that breaks the first time you use it. the disappointment is not with the giver, but with the lack of value in the producer.

the sunway villas were jammed between other buildings, stacked onto a hill, where vans were needed to crawl up the hill but were too large for the tracks built for buggies later proved to underpowered for guests and baggage. the sunway resort beach was close enough to see, which also meant the sound of waterpark entertainment was constant. but the most lacking element was the "pool" which was ten foot square and only three feet deep. too small for a proper plunge, and completely impossible to enjoy a swim for two. add to this under-trained staff and the theft of the credit card account, later used to purchase internet video games, and the overall experience was more one of guilt for lacking cost benefit. we will not even go into the USD 200++ steak that was good, but far from what i thought i was ordering; or the pancakes that were as american as the honey they tied to pass off as maple syrup -- twice.

so, here we are. we decided on the trip at the last minute, because i was told i needed to get out of town. it was somewhat of a ... take a break and reset after a couple of stressful weeks. this is a place that we knew we would enjoy, and was the compromise to my "i need to be in the US, i need a taco, let's go to LA next week... okay too far, what about hawaii?". the food, the alcohol, the waves, the walls, the pool, the irish coffees before bed and the massage hut for 400 baht (USD 13) all sounded so right.

the upside is that it has been better than expected. i was having steak and eggs for breakfast this morning. the coffee and beignets before had been wonderful, and the special request to replace the fried egg with a small portion of the chorizo scrambled eggs and a side of the black pudding was met with a "thank you ka". they delivered the smoothies which were the suggested drinks for the day, and a flood of memory came over me. the banana-strawberry lassie tasted exactly like my first favorite alcohol drink, brick alley pub's slow train to mazatlan, i just needed to get them to add peach brandy and light and dark tum. could it be true, could i take this comfort weekend to the next level by getting back on the train to home?

it was a very fast negotiation, jame the bartender and i worked out the mix, found a pitcher, struck a price for my ticket and within 10 minutes i was transported back with a properly tasting drink to go with my yummy breakfast steak (built into the room rate no less). this weekend might have been indulgent, but it was also exactly what i needed. being in KL can be beyond frustrating, with very limited exceptions you see things half done with no recognition or embarrassment for the lack of success. you live with an eye to the day when the quality that you need to remain and be happy will be replaced with a crappy substitue jammed next to a noisy waterpark.

if this is a drug, and i am an addict, i am okay with it. because it feels good, and the majority of the peninsular pleasures are not able to strike the chords of pleasure. this is why people work, why i stay, because i get to feel the quality that comes with it. it's the wonderful things that standout and shine, those that you get to enjoy just being around that make the difference.

happy hour is not for two more hours, but i am already there. i am on a slow train and i am feeling good.

Thursday, September 01, 2011

missing options

a month ago i was on an island paradise, walking in the jungle, trying to work my way down the terraced hillside to see the river at the bottom of the valley. the manager of the resort had told us that the two local rivers came together a bit down stream and the male and female flows come together as one. he said this was a sacred place, because of the combined energy. i didn't know if the river below was male or female, and i wondered if i would be able tell when i saw it.

as i walked through the trees, there was an erie calm. this was real jungle, and i really had no reason to be out here. but i was in paradise, staying in a resort with all the amenities expected to accompany private villas, and here i was tromping along in running shoes and cargo shorts. walking through the jungle is not as easy as it looks. vines reach for your feet with each step, and the idea that a snake is underfoot never really goes away. focus needs to be kept down and forward, not natural for someone conditioned to looking up and scanning the horizon for coming issues.

i wondered how much harder this would be in a truly dangerous environment. i had gotten here by walking down a flight of stairs and past some tiki poles. i imaged other americans taking flights to jungles in asia, and being sent out to walk in the jungle near rice padis. in their case punji sticks were the wood carvings along the way. i took a beat and looked around, a beautiful valley with gender-ambiguous river below and smoke in the air.

the smoke was coming from a small hut in the woods ahead. the hut had a fire burning, and when i got closer i saw a woman sitting over the flames burning a pile of branches. rather than just passing, i went over to take a picture, we had a conversation in broken-bahasa and i learned she was there to keep the jungle clear. she burned some of what she cut, and feed the rest to pigs back in her village. as we spoke, i realized there were few guests at this zen resort who ever met this hidden member of the staff.

a month later, i keep flashing back to this encounter. as i go through my day, i wonder if she is there cutting and burning the jungle into submission. talk about a job that never ends, the jungle never stops growing. i wonder about her years before, making choices on career day. did she sit down and think, i want to work in the jungle and almost never talk to anyone? are there annual reviews with this role? does she have KPI that are measured with smart criteria?

this is clearly a career that comes from narrow options. i have been to this paradise before, there is work out there for someone who is mobile, has language skills and is willing to interact with visitors. this is probably true almost anywhere. if you are willing to move, can communicate and are willing to work, you have options. not having options... maybe that comes from inside. do we take options off the table because we do not want the choice?

my boss reminded me yesterday that i have a pretty good life. i was standing on my expat-balcony overlooking the swimming pool, the sun was shining and i was headed into work so i could run on the treadmill i have inside my office. things are pretty good, even with cobras next to my car, the literal rats-nest in the air-con over my desk and the strange costs of living here. i have to admit that most of the time i am very happy, even if i am missing opportunities.

i would like to be back in the US. i would like to drive down to venice beach, have a burrito and watch the performers. i would love to go to newport beach and eat dinner at flo's; maybe pj would show up and we could have a beer over clams. but what really makes me happy is that i have options. i look forward to finding a loft and being part of the gentrification of a less than perfect part of town; it will still be nicer than KL. i can do these things, or almost anything else i want. some options would take a visa, others i could just go and do. but not today, today i am just happy being busy and watching the growth around me.

some days might feel like i am cutting back a jungle, or avoiding punji sticks, but then i remember that a quick walk up the hill and i get to kick off those shorts and hop into the pool. taking a swim in the middle of the day is an option that most people do not have, but i have learned that if i focus i can. the best part is that there are people who i can swim with, or who will pass me a towel when i climb out.

having the pool is good, but sharing the swim is the real fun.

calling celibacy

people talk about the one that got away. that person that could have made them whole, could have brought happiness to their lives and given them the contentment they so deeply crave. i understand this, because we are our choices. what we experience in life is a direct result of the decisions we make the the directions we take. life is good if you allow it, but some people continue to carry regrets. someone just said, "we do what we are", and that made me think about a career choice i didn't make.

i went to college in a catholic school. a major part of the initial curriculum, were the religion/philosophy class requirements. the overall core was comprised of three philosophy, three theology, four humanities (code for religion-philosophy); with added english, foreign language and art credits. these are clearly all the skills needed for a teacher to coach american football, to helo-cast US marines into combat or to manage a software-engineering team. reading homer, cervantes and machiavelli were good, but not directly applicable to what i do now; machiavelli does have its lessons.

i remember a night during my freshman year, reading in the dorm, when i was presented with a choice. i was reading about saint augustine and the situations of desire that were presented to highlight his begotten youth were familiar. anyone who had been in the van from the beach to the fenway, with the side trip to boston's combat-zone, could envision what the father of celibacy had experienced. being brought up catholic was just enough to feel the guilt and want to escape the pleasures.

this was the moment when it happened. for the first time i considered joining the priesthood. this was the moment of "calling" that i had been warned of, a gift that i was expected to embrace. i was being given a vocation, i was being invited into the fold. it felt as though i being called up from double-A ball and was being given a shot at the show; a very long shot with my arm. a chance was presenting itself that i had never considered, that i never thought i would be allowed. i had avoided all the predecessor conditioning steps, while my best friends were ringing the bells at mass, i was still on the beach and here i was, getting the nod.

i took a breath and considered it; rather than be overcome with the chance, i did the math. i was at a benedictine school, i didn't see myself as a parrish priest, but i felt more like a dominican (a hound of god), than living the "ordered life" of a benedictine. would i need to live the monastic life? what if the abbot role was filled, would i need to travel to move up? celibacy, was that complete or was there a hall-pass available? could i still have children? maybe the eastern orthodox church had more flexibility, but those robes and hats....

the entire process took no more than a minute or two, and i passed. augustine made his case, but i had always thought it went a little to far. a few days later while talking to the future abbot of the local order, i told him i had received an offer but had passed. i asked what he thought, he was unable to stifle the laugh that escaped. brother was a sensible man, and is trusted by the order to lead now, so i am sure i made the right choice. but since there have been times, when i wonder.

i look good in black, i have the ability to enforce rules that i do not agree with and i feel the best when helping someone through a situation. the fact that i get bored and go out and find projects to keep myself occupied, especially ones that don't focus on the party line, could be an issue. my libertarian hedonism and agnosticism could be another. but times are tough, maybe there is room for us both to reconsider this. i am too old to join the military, and i heard someone in his 60s became a priest. so there is time, but some of the rules will need to be bent; i come with a personal angel.

if you are really serious, you can call me again and we can discuss the specifics.

Monday, August 29, 2011

avoiding balik

it is hari raya weekend. this is time is equivalent to the thanksgiving of the malaysian community. a time when seemingly everyone exits the city and goes home to kampong. it is time to celebrate the end of fasting and beginning of the month of feast. years ago, my first raya was an experience of KL emptiness, as though a dystopian event had descended and driven the population into the hillside. it was actually the cultural bias to return and spend time with the family who had not transitioned into the emerging-modern world of KL. so why is it different this time, the city is full, the cafe is loud. where is the desire to go home?

the downside to having the city full the coming week is not severe; it's just not what was hoped for. KL is a place that ebbs and flows with the holiday calendar. this weekend is the combined holidays of medeka and hari raya. merdeka is a semi-secular holiday of independence from british colonial rule. hari raya is the two day festival that marks the end of the fasting month of ramadan. they are overlapping this year, making for a holiday week, because of the islamic lunar calendar which moves ramadan forward a month each year. given the length and importance of the break, it has been expected to provide space for those of us who are without kampong.

in prior years, balik kampong would empty the city. the streets would be clear, the restaurants would be empty. i should have seen the signs of this not happening this year, over the past few weeks i have asked if places would be closed, and each said they would be open. the person saying they would be open normally said it with a tone of disapproval. they appeared to want to be closed, but some owner was forcing them to be open. they are not yet comfortable to openly condem the decision, this stage of maturity only gives them the teenager angst and glare.

these were fully expat locations, coffee shops owned by kiwis and weak-copies of US hamburger or pizza places. the latter owned by mysterious malays who happily sell beer while restricting pork, but who also recognize that the economic opportunity of selling pizza to a chinese family out weighs the need of their staff to go home to mom's house and enjoy the feast of thanksgiving. actually as i think of this, this does seen like progress. economy over imaginary friends and time with mom.

on the demand side of this, there are more people who appear to have nowhere to balik. i have overheard conversations about this by locals, those who never returned on these breaks have been wondering why so many people are making the choice not to go. the common thread seems to be that family back in the hills have either died off, or have moved to KL to be cared for by the younger generations. there is no reason to go back if mom is already here.

maybe this is the right time to stipulate a few points. i have not been home is almost a year. the two homes i have in the US are both sitting unvisited, long flights away. emotionally i do not feel the need to go home for this holiday, i probably would not have gone to my isolated island family this weekend if i were there. there was a drop-off that needed to be done in the mountains, driving hours through a depressively overrated tropical storm. but i just spent the summer with 2/3 of the people i needed to celebrate, and the flights are literally a pain in my ass.

as i sit with my espresso roma, i am thinking of jodie foster's movie "home for the holidays". it is a celebration towards the sadly-average american family. through the haze of turkey, you feel the dysfunctional loving embrace of people who drive each other completely crazy, and from whom they cannot escape. in this clip you will see a strong resemblance of my father saying a thanksgiving blessing. for a more painful image, watch the infamous turkey scene; carving much to close to the bone. there are painful images, but they represent the peril of spending time with people who know the complete truth, even as the truth comes out; or returns from days long past.

this is what spending time with close family is all about. being able to remember the good old days, embracing your childhood, and dropping the pretension of adulthood. but it can come with a painfulness that you hoped you left behind. the awkwardness of youth can creep back to the surface and if you are not careful you might get hosed down on the front lawn. i don't see the local family being as honest, or is it brutal, with themselves as is jodie's purely american story.

KL is normally a crowded, but empty, city. this week we hoped for a simply empty city, but it's not happening. the crowds remain, which could be indicative of the weight that the city continues to gain on the population. if there is no other place to go, it could be that the villages are no longer holding a rural attraction, or it could be that people just want to stay home and be out of the rush. either way its another sign of change here. the people of KL are less kampong-centric, the emptiness is not what it used to be.

i need to watch for the next ebb, and may need to balik with the flow.



Saturday, August 27, 2011

wanting air

i am sitting in a cafe, trying to waste time while work i could have done is being done by someone who didn't want to do it. i need to stay out of the way, so i am taking up space in a crowded cafe. a friend of mine walked in about an hour ago, when he sat down he said, "i thought i would find you here." he didn't expect me to be out on my bike, or showering after a run, he thought i would be here with my laptop, book and a coffee in front of me.

i am a creature of habit, i find routines that allow me to control the quality of my day. my basic wardrobe of jeans, polo and running shoes has been comfortably mine ever since i walked into the preppie haven of potter & co as a teen. i have replaced the alligator with a polo player, and i no longer feel the need to cut the branding away. the teenaged false-rebellion of creating holes to highlight my "conspicuous consumption" has faded away into enjoyment of simple and consistent quality.

i also have a strong drive to search for new and shiny toys to play with. the friend sitting next to me asked if i could be any more apple-branded. macbook pro, iphone and ipad splayed across the table, i smiled and turned the computer so he could see that i was shopping for a replacement air to fill the gap of the one going off to college this weekend. a purchase that i definitely do not "need", but that i might want; it's an ongoing debate. i am using the weight of 17 inches to justify the want of air. the extra-ness of the pro makes it less than portable, but is that enough to excuse the cost of going light.

i have been exercising every day this month. this is in stark contrast to the many months before when exercise was an afterthought of missed regret. for over a year, i have tried to get into the groove needed to sustain this effort, but was not emotionally tied to the benefits. i didn't want it enough to invest in making it happen. this was a purchase that just missed the cut of desire. i would have needed to pull away from the desk, or spin away at home, and that was too much for the perceived gain; gain through loss is a hard sell.

what tipped the logical analysis into the negative was the lower near-term benefit. many people are driven by fear-induced choices that go along the lines of -- if you don't do "x", bad things will happen, so hurry up and do "y". the y here for purchasing the lesser weight and lowering the drag of age and size could have won. being lighter is a good thing, i was never debating that, but having the biggest screen is a good thing too. the weight reinforces the existential substance, like driving the swedish engineered sports-wagon, rather than the italian designed sports-coupe. i have always been more wagon than coupe guy, i love the sound of the heavy doors closing around me.

this still leaves me with a decision, do i go to see my chinese apple guy and walk away with the light as air toy, or do i carry the full-sized wagon that i love; considering the weight every time i heft my messager bag onto my shoulder. the newly jobless apple has recently upgraded the line, there is a new processor and a new lion inside the box. but it feels like a waste to have another box to play with, my repressed catholic-protestant guilt is shining through and questioning the "need" to go light.

what if i wait another month or two? there are rumors that a larger air is on the way. i should be considering if another two inches will be sexy enough to cause regret after the smaller purchase i can make now. but bigger is not always better. thin can be a goal of its own, for myself and for the shiny curved cases i crave. i am going to go for a run, and think about the unbearable lightness of being attracted to air.

the act of burning loss may help me decide if losing my air is reason enough to invest in lightness.



Sunday, August 14, 2011

sexy heavy

i was talking to my daughter a few years ago and she was telling me about winning a race and how good it made her feel. we were discussing her successes in life and how good she felt about it. which was when she brought up how others might look at her and see her as heavier than a star swimmer and captain of the tennis team is expected to be. she laughed at it and said she was happy with how she looked and felt, society might expect thin as the norm, but her body let her feel strong while she was kicking some skinny girls ass in the pool. i had to smile, because attitude goes a long way.

i have been on a roller coaster of weight for most of my life. i have fallen into a 7 to 10 year cycle of loss, maintenance and long-slow gain. to be fit, i need to exercise. i don't mean go to yoga, or take a walk, i mean hard work to burn the weight off. the last time i did this, i took a break from work and got control of both diet and exercise. i kicked my own ass as often as i could muster. i was taking my bike out into the mountains, and dragging my fat ass up hills that i didn't think i could make it to the top of. when i did find the crest, gravity added to spinning hard in the highest gear would provide an endorphine rush of speed that balanced the pain of the climb.

i dropped so much weight so quickly that summer, rumors started that i had cancer. i was actually very healthy, but even at the most dedicated, deep inside i knew i could not sustain the effort and denial it took to be 195 lbs (88.5 kg). i looked great, i felt great, i was able to take my multi-sport varsity athlete out on the bike and crack him open like a walnut as he struggled to climb with me. but it was not enough. i like to sit in front of a computer, fly on an airplane, or lay on a couch more than i like riding up those hills. i put my need to tri below my groups chance to win.

the difficult part of forcing myself to stay in shape is that i don't see myself falling out of shape. yes, i have noticed that i have gone through two sets of clothes since moving to KL. the shirts i was wearing when i first got here are now dress-down friday options for my girlfriend. i have written about being offered business cards by attractive chinese women who want me... as a client for their weight-loss program. i am not beyond understanding that people no longer see the high-school athlete, the college lifeguard, the twenty-something runner, the thirty-something cyclist or the 40 year-old triathlete. they do see the out-of-shape workaholic, who always seems to have bronchitis but who is surprisingly still happy with how he feels.

i know people who get upset by putting on 5 or 10 lbs. i am not sure if this is the norm, but i don't feel it. i have the ability to gain 5 lbs in a single week, and tend to do so when i am flying on business. the issue is that it takes me 50 lbs to really get motivated to do something about it. less than that, its just not enough of a challenge, or enough of an issue to worry about. i feel more guilt from having someone walk into my office while i am running than i do at the thought that someone sees me as fat. i would rather be a slacker for not exercising than to be accused of doing something for myself when i could be working.

besides, i am not unhappy with the way i look. i don't love the shape, but my personal impression of myself isn't something i dislike. i am not perfect, but overall i am far from worried about how i look. i can still exercise, last year i climbed one of the highest areas of the great wall, faster and stronger than the younger people around me. in many ways i have never been more at ease with who i am.

but, i have reached a tipping point. i have known it was coming, it really is getting harder to run. i feel less comfortable moving around. it's time to feel the burn, to drive the demons of my inner-slacker away. i am 46 years old, i have gotten my allergies back under-control after a week in beijing that tipped me over into two months of asthma induced coughing. work, at least this week, does not appear to be in crazy-mode so i am going to recover from the past 5 years of not taking the time to ensure there was less of me.

i ran 4 times this week, i cycled twice and all of it felt great. i weigh in at 285 lbs (129 kg), 50 lbs more than i could be. i like myself as sexy-heavy and as beaten into shape. it might be unfortunate that i do like both, if i disliked the over-achieving-weight of myself more it could be easier for me to start the burn earlier.

but happiness comes from within, and inside i am good and happy. that being said, the inner athlete needs to dig his way out. i am older, but i also know i enjoy the pain more today than i ever have. let the pain begin then, because we are now on the down hill, and that is when the speed picks up and the endorphines flow.

when i get there, just remember, i am still that sexy-heavy guy. he is inside no matter how hard i try to burn him off. and, i am always happy the ash is there.

prosecuting gandhi

when i was younger i considered a career as a lawyer. my liberal family would have hoped that i would become a defense attorney, maybe not a public defender, but someone who would stand up for the accused and provide them with the best defense possible. the problem i had with this was the collection of friends i had as an early teen. they had provided me with the insight that most of those accused were guilty. rather than getting guilty people off, i wanted to help put them away, protecting society from the mayhem.

growing up with near-hippy parents, and wanting to be the protector of the conservative social order could sound strange. but having lived in a chaotic situation, you begin to understand why rules are put in place. as one of my college professors said, "there are lions and there are lambs, you need to decide which you want your children to be". i somehow grew up with the shaggy hair, and protective demeanor of a shepard dog. sitting on the hill, watching the flock and ready to intervene to keep the lambs from the lion.

but when i came time to go to college, i did not find a pre-law track, i went education. i believed it would be better to intervene earlier, to teach the lambs to think for themselves rather than needing to be led through life through fear of the shepards crook. none of this turned out as planned, i never taught, i found a path that allowed me to design and build automation rather than social systems. but as the years have passed my desire to tightly control has been replaced with the original freedoms of the liberal environment i developed within.

spending 4 years watching the cloistered monastic communities of my university years struggle against the modern realities of the post-enlightenment years, trying to reconcile a conservative framework with the the entitlements and opportunities of the educated futures they were building, convinced me that closed was not the way for me. the portraits of human greatness ended with mahatma gandhi, the father of modern india and creator of non-violent civil disobedience called ahimsa. reading the material, brought into sharp contrast how a conservative regime can be overcome by allowing them to attempt to strangle freedoms from their people.

the intervening years have allowed me to learn much more about myself and the the world than i ever could have known during college. i have resisted change myself and felt the irrationality of trying to hold back the tide. i am currently witnessing change similar to the 1960s collapse of the conservative order of post-WW2 america. a country pushing itself in two directions at once, and feeling the tension of straining against itself.

i am very glad i didn't become the protector of conservative order i thought i wanted to be in my youth. embracing the liberalism of modern-life has given me the opportunities i have so throughly enjoyed. i once said i was not a role model. at the time i was quoting charles barkley without thinking about the new role i was taking on. a life and a half later, i recognize that i am a role model, but maybe not the one my early conservative self would have expected.

there was a story in the journal a few months ago that discussed a new book on gandhi. the title of the book is great soul, the message is that gandhi was a complex man who lived in a time when the modern world was evolving. he is also a man who embraced a celibacy while married to a woman, wrote letters to a man describing him as the love of his life, and who lost close associates from his inner circle based on his "experiments" of sleeping naked with young girls. the book only focused on these points by publishing gandhi's own words, and never drew conclusions. the book, of course, caused strong reactions from those who have put the man on a pedestal and refuse to accept him as a man with personal demons.

the issue with taking a conservative view, and attempting to defend it, is that new details come to light, and you are forced to square them with an out of date set of believes; this can cause intense pain. conservatism comes from the latin conservare "to preserve", while liberalism comes from the latin liberalis "of freedom". as the world opens up, and conservative threads continue to unwind, those who give themselves the freedom to learn and experience life are in a better, less painful, position. they are not trying to hold back the tide that is coming no matter how hard they resist.

gandhi more than the symbol, he was a man and lived a much more complex life than we were led to believe. that does not diminish what he accomplished or change the freedom he brought to his country. there is no reason to prosecute him today for the life he lived then, but there is also no reason to shy away from understanding what that life was. understanding is always better than ignoring, it gives you the freedom to adjust to the new realities.

why preserve an out of date view? its like last weeks fish, the smell isn't going away no matter how much you try to cover it up and if you continue to feed on it, sooner or later you are going to wish you were a vegetarian.

top matters

it's interesting how a small idea can begin, be sidelined and then continue to resurface, bobbing up into view at the most random of times. i picked up a book a few weeks ago, and read it with a gusto of enjoyment. since then i have formulated an exercise of discovery and ruminated on how easy it is to live life if you believe the results of the exercise. the hard part of this is understanding that pleasure is fundamental to life, but what gives someone pleasure is not what you expect.

the book i read was "the compass of pleasure: how our brains make fatty foods, orgasm, exercise, marijuana, generosity, vodka, learning, and gambling feel so good". first of all, look at that title. do you really think i could have passed that book by and not bought and read it immediately? could you have passed it by? if you could, then learning must not be one of the things you gain pleasure from, or is it that pleasure itself does not interest you. the point here is many people do not have a strong handle on what gives them, or those around them, pleasure and why.

the major discovery for me from the text was, what gives us pleasure is both learned and genetically pre-disposed. this is fundamental to a person's addictions, at the root of experience is the ability for our brains to reward and drive us towards certain behaviors. what i did not grasp was that behaviors that light up my pleasure centers do nothing for someone else. but when you feel a craving, it is the same addiction centers of the mammal brain that evolution has built to motivate us to get up seek out pleasure, regardless of what the specific pleasure is that drives you.

as i write this, i have am eating a burmese beef kabob and sharing a fruit salad with bananas, yogurt, and honey. i also have a orange and lime soda and an espresso romana (iced-espresso with lemon and sugar added). i am listening to the alternative soundtrack for catch and release, wearing cargo shorts and a t-shirt and sitting outside so i can feel the heat of the tropical weather. i am also typing away on my 17 inch macbook, which is too heavy to carry but i gave my air to my daughter and are waiting to replace it. i am waiting to raise the desire levels of making the purchase to the point that i get even more pleasure than i would get if i did it today.

every single one of the above items are based on decisions i made to bring myself pleasure. we all make these decisions all day, every day. the theory of desire at the end of the 19th century was that we made choices to avoid pain. we ate because we were hungry; and wanted to avoid the pangs of hunger. this aligns well with the late-victorian sense of morality that shied from the focus on pleasure across cultural realms. today's consumer driven capitalist society is focused on the economy, built on the acceptance of driving pleasurable "needs". i eat for pleasure, and i love doing it.

what intrigued me by the title of the book was how they equated gambling or generosity to fatty-foods. i don't gamble, i don't smoke... cigarettes, i rarely drop into temple and would never be driven to a multi-day connection with a friend; imagined or not. but, i ate a piece of lime cake last week, it was sweet and sour at the same time, each and every bite caused an explosion of pleasure for me. i am waiting to have another piece, i have thought about it all week and have only stopped myself to give it to myself as a reward for exercising this week. is this what a gambler feels when he puts money down on red and watches the roulette spin? i can't understand how that can be, i just can't understand it... and that is the point.

i was discussing this with someone i know and understand very well, she told me i am one of the top 3 people in the world who understand who she is and what gives her pleasure. in wanting to illustrate the relative pleasure of things i took a piece of paper, and on one side drew a vertical line. the top was labelled "complete pleasure" and the bottom was "almost no pleasure". i then listed the standard pleasures discussed in the book, "food, sex, alcohol, drugs, prayer, generosity, exercise, learning and gambling". i was going to force rank these, but decided there were gaps in the list.

these are the general items, and i had items i would add as my specific pleasures. i listed them out, "writing, travel, photography, reading, cooking, music". what i realized immediately was that this list would be different for each person, but that it would fall somewhere into the same force rank as the standard list. how interesting it would be to understand what gives people around you pleasure, but what about what gives yourself pleasure. make your own list, draw the line and then start ranking items against one another. you are allowed one tie on the entire list, otherwise you need to put the items above or below another item, making a decision of how much you honestly enjoy things.

i was talking to a newlywed this week. she admitted that her shopping was something her husband wanted her to do less of, and then said that she wanted him to stop smoking. i quickly explained the force-ranking exercise, and asked if shopping was at the top of her list. she smiled and shyly said, "almost at the top". not being allowed to dig into this more, i asked what was at the top for her husband. she smiled again and told me smoking was his favorite pleasure. she admitted she knew this before they lived together, and then agreed that asking someone to give up their most intense pleasure was not something you would do to someone you loved. this was always the root of the "pick your addictions" advice.

being a software engineer, i immediately jumped to the idea of using collective intelligence to match people based on their pleasures, and displeasures but that might be another blog to consider, not only that they like something, but how much they like it, and how it ranks against other items. until i build the system, you can do it yourself, rank your items, and have those around you do it too. i suggest the rule of thumb is that the items in the top third of someones ranking have to be accepted, or ignored. everyone doing this exercise needs to be honest and then you need to share the list, because if they don't match you will be a newlywed who is upset your husband does something you dislike and that he wants you to stop your pleasures.

for me, this means i need someone who loves to eat, enjoys reading and exploring language, doesn't mind my excessive use of wikipedia/imdb/dictionary.com to look up details and definitions. they must also love to waste hours in a cafe, accept an addiction to apple products and custom messenger bags, embrace an always on handphone and the effects of cyclical stress. an ability to watch shows on dvd, with heavy repetition on house, the closer, justified and dexter is a major plus, if not a deal breaker for someone who can't understand the comfort this repetition brings me.

i was explaining this last night, focused on the top third and how people may not understand how forceful the feelings of pleasure, or the drive to enjoy these things can be. i discussed the need to draw the line and allow things towards the top to be accepted, even if they are what some might not understand. my companion said angelically, " i get it..."

"it's important to be on top."

Sunday, July 17, 2011

permitted skills

there are times when i go out looking for something to play with. when i first got here, i spent a year exiting the country every 3 months to keep my tourist visa status in place. the fact that this "work-around" had been suggested by a pseudo-governmental person seemed odd to me. the US is a cut and dry place, where having a work permit is a requirement to be working, and having the government suggest "work-arounds" is not expected. but getting my IC card was one the first experiences of waiting within the system, and has been fodder for complaint until recently.

the orginal process was stated to take a "few weeks", the reality was that it took 6 months from the beginning to end. this translated to two cycles of flights, while malaysia went through the procedural rigamarole of passing my application, often with no ability to get status other than "it is underway". the last 6 weeks of that process were spent waiting for two ministers to be available to stamp the visa. i remember not being sure which was more shocking, that ministers were only available every month and a half, that it took over a week for them to actually do the stamping, or that it took two of them to stamp in the first place. (there has to be a joke in there about how many X it takes to... but i would never go there)

the time and effort of employment pass processing is a common complaint in the expat community. one that the government argues they are addressing. this is related to the issues of malaysians who allegedly want to come back to the country, but can not because spouses are not able to get working permits. in standard form, the government announced early this year that a new organization, talentcorp, would be set up to streamline and expedite the processing of a new pass called the residence pass. three of the selling points on this program were:
  1. it is specifically designed for highly-skilled people
  2. the requirements were clearly defined
  3. processing would be done in 21 days if submitted on-line
in many ways the added benefits of this program would not help me. i do not have a foreign spouse who needs an associated work-permit, my children are either to young or to old to qualify for their work permits and in the event my current role ends a malaysian work permit will not be a requirement for me. this might cause you to question why i am applying for this permit rather than simply extending my current permit that soon expires. the main reason is for the pure fun of it.

late last year i was reading an expat magazine and came across a summary of the coming program. the selling points above were outlined and i asked my companion if she thought i was highly-skilled. she smiled at me and asked why i was asking. i explained and said, "i have more than 18 years experience, i ran a consulting company for 10 years, i have managed teams on three continents, i specialize in e-commerce and mobile software development, i am a GM and i still do software engineering -- something that separates me from every other GM in the country, but i wonder if malaysia would consider me highly skilled."

so here is the update. we have been working on this for 3 months, MDeC now suggests that we apply for an extension to the existing employment pass in the event this drags on beyond the expiration date. the documentation that was submitted has now been declared incorrect, because it followed the directions. allegedly, the requirements have changed without being documented and we are in a holding pattern while someone figures out what is needed and which language it needs to be in. once the first semi-governmental organization does it's work, it will pass the application to a second semi-governmental organization, but the first told us this week they have no experience working with the second and are not sure what the overall process will be like.

as i am sitting on the side and smiling at this, its hard not to remember that this was an improvement put in place to streamline the previous process. the 21 day promised timeline has long past, the requirements are up in the air and there is apparently no way to make this go any faster. but i am still smiling, because i knew when i read the article that it would go this way. i told people that, and they looked at me like i was being unfair and was not giving malaysia a chance to prove that it could improve itself. how could they not be doing something better, the old process was a mess and three ministers, including the PM came out and spoke about the improvements they were going to make and how by cooperating they could change the impression of the ministries.

it feels good to give the country a chance to prove itself. it will also feel good to know that at the end of the process i will be told if the country considers me talented enough to be included in this program. i found not so desperate housewife's blog who has been approved, so i know it's possible for this program to work. it's good to know that housewives are being approved and executives in global companies are not sure if they will need to start exiting the country every three months and pretend they are tourists when they return.

but in the mean time, i will wait to see if i am "highly-skilled"